That Will Be Enough
by Epic Insanity
Summary: Is it wrong for her to pray that she never wakes up? Is it worse for him to wish the same?


_Two hearts meet in a dream. One pumps blood, circulating life throughout a body, and begs to be released from its mortal duty. The other, empty and silent, has no purpose but to occupy the cavity in which it sits. One cannot touch the other. They are separated by breath, by oxygen being brought into the lungs and exchanged with carbon dioxide in the blood. They are separated by life._

Eyes thrown open in a desperate attempt to retrieve nonexistent light particles, Christine stumbled about blindly with arms stretched in front. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in a nervous pattern as if unsure whether they should be afraid to touch whatever surface they came across. _Where was she?_

Christine's lips pulled tight, corners creasing to unleash a whimpering sound that only reverberated back to ears straining for any sound. "Please," she whispered as tears flooded her face, "Please help me."

Finally, her hands found something her eyes couldn't see in the thick black air: wet stone taller and far wider than she. A wall!

"Please!" she cried out, hiccupping slightly on the syllable. Christine closed her eyes and returned to an inner darkness, a kind of despair that chose to ignore her present situation and focus only on emotions. Fear that cripples sensible thought, misery to infect alongside the lack of light, and loneliness begging for a shoulder to discard her weeping on.

She called out again, noticing how her fruitless cry to help seemed to slam mockingly back at her as if she were in…

"A cave."

The sudden manifestation of the voice, calm and deep as if it belonged to someone who had not yet abandoned themselves to the shrill screams of terror, startled Christine. She jumped and sniffled in the following pressure of silence.

"Who's there? Can you help me?" she asked, finding the will to search along the wall in the direction of the voice.

"You've never brought me to a cave before," the voice said in an amused tone.

Christine knew that voice!

It was at this point she realized was dreaming. She only ever saw _him_ when dreams stole her away, binding all thoughts in colorful, soft ribbons of unconsciousness. His appearances overshadowed any images previously dancing in her immature teenage mind like a powerful sun blinds the presence of a lesser light. He would arrive whenever, wherever she called, even if it were a sinking boat in the middle of thrashing seas or a mountaintop overlooking a breathtaking sunset.

"Erik?"

Suddenly Christine could make out a shape ten yards in front of her body shuffling against the stone. It was _he_, outlined in a thick darkness and strolling casually to meet her.

Chains of depression thrown aside like childish paper rings, Christine practically flew to him with elation guiding her heels. Erik grinned and caught her. Wrapped his comforting embrace, she was now able to see his gentle eyes and the soft corner of his mouth upturned in a smile. She realized in a flash that he'd not worn his mask this time, but had summoned shadows to hide his deformity. Christine rested her ear against his chest and, as always, listened for the sound of his heartbeat.

The dull thud was still absent.

"Can I go with you this time?" she asked, mumbling as a child would when already knowing the answer to be given.

"No," Erik said, resolute.

"But please!" she cried out sharply, already grasping for her few straws, "I want to go!"

He looked steadily down into her wet, green eyes and lightly touched the brown silken hair atop her head. For a moment she imagined he would give in to her request and take her to a place where she'd never awaken again. There they would reside for eternity, lost in a dream world where light met dark with bright bursts of song and fireworks that went off when their gazes collided.

"You cannot leave yet." Erik placed a tender hand to silence Christine's predicable response. "But for now, I can hold you. And that will be enough."

Christine leaned fully against him, mentally escaping the damp cave and finding solace in the glow behind her eyelids. Her heart beat, pumping blood to vital parts of her body: to the lungs bringing in the precious scent of her beloved, to the brain recording Erik's soft humming for future remembrance, to the hands painfully gripping his shoulders. Her body was so _alive_...


End file.
